


One Step Forward (Two Steps Back)

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 2 Am Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Returns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurts So Good, I promise, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, So much angst, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Tumblr Prompt, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: There were a million different things he could do. But apparently Stiles wasn’t above begging.“I love you.”Did that count as begging? Some part of him thought so.“Fuck, Derek, I love you.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 24
Kudos: 399
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	One Step Forward (Two Steps Back)

“You can’t just leave like this.”

“I can’t just stay!”

Stiles stepped back, heart lodging in his throat. The loft was dark and silent and Stiles had thought— he’d  _ thought—  _ that they’d finally gotten over this rift. The rift. This freaking  _ line _ between them that separated friend from enemy, and anything from ever being more than that. 

But then again, Stiles had thought they could’ve been somewhere in between. Or somewhere so far beyond in between. Somewhere that made sense even though nothing about them had made sense for a long time.

But now he looked at Derek with a bag in hand, the man’s eyes the vibrant shade of blue, and his heart just hurt. Derek wasn’t half shifted, but he might as well have taken out the claws and fangs. Because Stiles felt like he was talking to an animal. He swallowed hard, trying to draw himself up even more, but he was pretty sure he failed terribly.

“You can’t just leave like this, Derek. You can’t do that.”

“I have to go, Stiles.”

“No, asshole! You can’t just  _ leave, _ Derek!”

The man set his jaw, eyes flashing blue again. His grip was white-knuckled around his bag and there was no emotion in his eyes. No sympathy, no regret. Not even mild distaste or hatred, which Stiles thought would have made this so much easier.

But nothing about this was easy; and maybe that was the beauty of it. Nothing about them had ever been easy.

“You can’t leave me, Derek,” Stiles said, voice shaking. “Not again.”

“I have to. And I shouldn’t have come back.”

Stiles’s heart snapped.

One month and twenty-three days. Stiles would like to say he’d counted all the days since Derek Hale had returned to Beacon Hills. And there weren’t that many. There weren’t enough. The man had come back to watch the rest of the pack graduate and while Stiles had expected to spend the rest of his summer at Derek’s side, he was now faced with the painful realization of that  _ was all a lie. _

Derek was a lie. A fucking lie.

“You shouldn’t have come back?” Stiles asked, voice shaking. “Or you shouldn’t have come back for me?”

“I didn’t come back for—”

“Don’t say that, Derek! I didn’t ask you to come through my window a month ago! I didn’t ask you to come to  _ me!  _ You could have gone anywhere else. Scott’s house, Peter’s apartment. But you came to my place. My room. Just like before.”

“And it was a mistake.”

Stiles lifted his jaw. “All of it?”

He saw the man’s eyes flicker again and Stiles knew he’d hit a nerve. But he would hit them over and over again if it made the man feel something. If it made Derek do anything other than look at him with a blank expression like it wasn’t Stiles in his loft. Like Stiles was a stranger. Like he didn’t matter.

“All of it, Derek?”

“You need to leave.”

“No, asshole, because if I turn away now then you’ll be gone by morning! And what am I supposed to do then, huh? Go back to watching Scott and his pack from the sidelines? Try to pretend like I’m college searching when really I’m just panicking about ever leaving my dad alone in Beacon Hills?”

Derek’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Stiles took a step forward and the man took two back. And Stiles felt sick. Because that’s what they did, wasn’t it? Took one step forward and two steps back.

Over and over again.

Stiles finally faltered. “Derek—”

“Go home, Stiles.”

“I swear to god, I hate you.”

The man didn’t even flinch. Stiles hated him even more for that; and he wasn’t even sure if his heart had skipped a beat. Saying something like that… who did it make this easier on? Maybe Derek could leave without looking back. Maybe Stiles could pretend like it was true.

Even if they both knew it wasn’t.

“Was it all a mistake then, Derek? When you kissed me? Was that a mistake too?”

Derek’s right eye twitched. Stiles took another step forward and this time, the man didn’t move. Stiles faintly realized he was trembling. When that had started, he didn’t even know, but he didn’t think he’d be stopping any time soon.

“How about this, Derek. When you  _ fucked me,  _ was that a mistake?”

“Stiles—”

“No, Derek! No!”

Stiles was trembling all over now. From his fingers to his hands. His heart thudded against his chest and he felt like he’d been dunked in cold water.

Some part of his brain tried to say he should have expected this. He should have expected Derek to leave. The man had been quiet and twitchy the past few days and Stiles felt it like a coming storm. There were no more smiles. No more secret touches or comforting kisses as the sun set. 

Derek still slept in his bed but his back was to where Stiles laid. And when Stiles looked at him, there was a look in the man’s eyes that was something only akin to  _ regret.  _ But he still scrabbled for purchase. Stiles still tried to find something, anything, to make the man stay.

_ Was he not enough? _

So for the third time that night, Stiles said; “You can’t just leave like this.”

“I can’t just stay.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not right. You’re not right.”

“Just me?”

One month and twenty-three days. That’s how long Stiles had thought he was winning. That maybe,  _ maybe,  _ something in this Hellmouth of a town could work out for him. Stiles had watched his friends die, his loved ones get hurt, and sometimes, he’d been on the wrong side of the trigger. He’d abandoned any fantasies of being an innocent sixteen-year-old long after Scott had gotten bitten in the woods. But he’d hoped. Stiles had dared have hope.

One month and twenty-three days. That’s how long Stiles had thought he could survive this.

He didn’t think he would survive Derek leaving again.

“I’m not wrong.”

“All of this is wrong.”

“Fucking hell, Derek, of course, it is! This is werewolves and the supernatural we’re talking about! I’ve spent more time trying not to die then I have doing homework or studying for the SATs! Nothing about this is  _ right.  _ But I’m not a thing, Derek. I’m not whatever the hell is wrong with Beacon Hills.”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. At some point, he’d dropped his bag. Now his arms were folded over his chest as if that would serve as a shield. Keeping a good three inches between him and Stiles, no matter how close Stiles got. There was always something between them.

Stiles hated it.

He reached out carefully, taking Derek’s hand and turning it over. The man didn’t move, didn’t react, but Stiles didn’t care. He placed three fingers against Derek’s pulse point and raised his eyes again, searching his face.

“Say you want me gone.”

Derek didn’t say a word. His expression betrayed nothing.

“Dammit, Derek, say you want me gone and I’ll leave! Just say it, you coward!”

“I want you to leave.”

His heartbeat didn’t skip. Stiles felt his own plunge and maybe, maybe, his legs could give out here. If he fell, would Derek even catch him? They’d always caught each other before, but… but one step forward and two steps back. And there were still two steps to go.

Stiles swallowed hard. “Am I really wrong?”

“Go.”

Stiles clenched his jaw and breathed out. Once, twice. There were a million different things he could do. Refuse. Go back on his word. Hell, he could punch the man. Stiles figured he could get in one or two good blows before Derek ripped his throat out.

There were a million different things he could do. But apparently Stiles wasn’t above begging.

“I love you.”

Did that count as begging? Some part of him thought so. 

“Fuck, Derek, I love you.”

Maybe that would get his throat ripped out. Might as well be that instead of his heart. Here stands Stiles Stilinski; died of a literal broken heart. Proclaiming his feelings to the most emotionally constipated werewolf to ever walk the earth. 

How fucking romantic. 

“Why?”

Backtrack a few steps.

Why.  _ Why?  _ Why did he love an idiot? Why did he decide to fall head over heels for a man with red eyes, blue eyes, gold eyes— what the hell color even were they? Stiles had waited an entire year for Derek to come back and he came  _ back.  _ He came back with a soft expression, arms that held Stiles tightly during the night, and whispered words that made his heart beat one more time than necessary.

But why?  _ Why?  _

“Stiles—”

“Do you love me?”

Derek’s mouth snapped closed. His eyes flashed. Stiles took an unsteady breath and raised his jaw, searching Derek’s face. 

“Do you love me too?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Because it’s a no?”

“Stiles—”

“Or because it’s a yes and you’re such a goddamn  _ coward—” _

“Because everyone I love gets hurt!”

This time it was Stiles’s turn to snap his mouth closed. He straightened, looking at Derek for a long moment, and the man looked wrecked. There were a million masks to Derek Hale, Stiles thought. Even in sleep, he’d never seen this one before. Derek could close his eyes, surrender himself to the world, and Stiles was pretty sure he’d only seen this look once before.

Years ago, when Derek Hale was dying.

But he was supposed to have come back evolved. None of this felt like evolution.

“Right now, Derek, you’re the only one hurting me.”

Stiles had been determined to strike a nerve earlier. This time, he was pretty sure he’d done something so much worse. And he didn’t feel any sort of triumph when Derek finally showed him  _ everything  _ and Stiles just felt sick.

One step forward, two steps back.

“I’m sorry.”

Was that moving or staying still?

“I’m sorry,” Derek said again. “I don’t— I didn’t— I’m sorry.”

“For loving or for hurting me?”

Derek looked at him, long and silent. Stiles swallowed hard, feeling his eyes burn.

“For loving or  _ hurting me,  _ Derek?”

“For ever leaving you in the first place.”

Stiles’s breaths stalled. And how long ago had that been? A year and twenty-three days. When Stiles had come by to find the loft empty with no note. He’d never said he loved the asshole then. They’d never shared quiet touches in the dark. There had been nothing keeping Derek around in the first place. No reason for Stiles to be mad.

It had still hurt like hell.

“And what about now?”

“What about now?”

“Are you going to leave me all over again?”

Derek closed his eyes, shivering. Stiles hated how tight his throat fell. Derek could probably answer any single way and Stiles would shatter into a million pieces. All that matter now was how he got put back together.

With careful touches, Stiles unfolded Derek’s arm from his chest. He thought it was a little like taking down the man’s walls. Stiles had tried to do that so many times in the past. Every time he fixed one thing; a grunt, a glare, Stiles had felt like he was winning.

He unfolded Derek’s arms and moved them around his waist. Stepped forward and buried his face in Derek’s neck, just like before.

“Don’t leave, Derek.”

The man shuddered against him. Stiles closed his eyes too, gripping handfuls of the man’s shirt. One step forward, two steps back. Stiles fucking hated that. But he’d do anything to fix it.

Maybe it just started with standing still.

“Don’t leave.”

One step forward, two steps back. 

One step forward, two steps-

“Okay.”

Stiles shivered, Derek held him tight, and they just stood there. Surrounded by the darkness and the silence. A forgotten bag sitting on the floor next to Derek’s foot. One month and twenty-three days. 

They stood there until it became twenty-four.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt; "You can't just leave like this" and woah. This one had so much angst, oh my god. I think I've said it before... but 2 am is dubbed angst hour and this insomnia brain is so terrible. I'm so sorry. But I'd love to hear what you all thought?
> 
> Come hang with me on Tumblr?
> 
> [the dumpster](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Or on my favorite Sterek discord!
> 
> [not a dumpster](https://discord.gg/78RjqwY)


End file.
